


The New Girl

by indiabrittany



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiabrittany/pseuds/indiabrittany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olive moves to Japan with her mother and starts going to school with Yugi and his friends, just in time for the Duelist Kingdom tournament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Move

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the original Yu-Gi-Oh characters or dialogue. Hope you enjoy! (:

Chapter One

 

The flight was long and I wasn’t overly fond of traveling by airplane to begin with. My mom met me at the airport at two in the afternoon. Well. She met a tired and very impolite version of her normally very civilized daughter. Walking off the airplane and into the humidity and standing in the customs line for an hour and a half had made me very grumpy. I hadn’t wanted to make this move in the first place, but at sixteen, I was still required to move with my mother. 

“Hey, baby!” my mom said to me, a happy grin on her face. Like always, she had gotten all dressed up. I had to repress the urge to roll my eyes at my mother. She couldn’t leave the house without caking on the makeup and squeezing into her tight and fashionable clothes. She ran over to me, awkwardly, her heels clicking on the floor. She was wearing a white halter top and the shortest, tightest green shorts I’d ever seen. They were high-waisted with gold buttons. Her hair was done in long, bottle blonde waves and her skin was perfectly smooth, an enviable shade of tan. She smiled and pushed her big, white designer sunglasses on top of her head, revealing her dark green eyes, and pulled me into a hug. 

“Hi there, Mom,” I said, in a much less enthusiastic tone. I patted her back a couple of times and then waited for her to let me go. 

“Did you get your bags yet, darlin?” she asked. I could hear the slightest hint of her Alabama accent in her perfect LA voice. 

I took a step back and spread out my arms to my sides. “Does it look like I have my bags yet?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. 

She smiled and wrinkled her nose before flicking mine. I jerked my head away from her, wrinkling my nose as well. “Don’t you sass me, young lady,” she said. “Aren’t you excited to be here?”

I laughed a little. “Ecstatic, Mom,” I said, grabbing one of my giant suitcases as it came around the conveyor belt. “You know how I begged you to move here.”

She smiled a little. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor,” she said. 

I smiled and grabbed my next suitcase, rather than reply. I didn’t feel like arguing with her. About two months ago, my mother had been offered a job teaching English at a college in Japan. Rather than discuss it with me, she’d announced about two weeks ago that we were moving to Japan. She’d already withdrawn me from my school after the term ended and enrolled me in a school in Japan. She’d bought the plane tickets and had scheduled a moving company to ship some our furniture to us. The rest she’d put in storage. It would be an understatement to say that I was unhappy to hear the news. 

But, two weeks after being informed, here I was, standing in an airport in Japan. I was wearing jeans I’d had for two years now that were full of rips and were covered in my friends’ signatures and notes. They’d all decided to sign my jeans when I’d told them I was moving. I also had on a tight black tank top and black flip flops. Nothing close to what my mother would have suggested wearing – even on a plane. My hair, which I usually straightened or curled, was down and in messy, somewhat frizzy waves. The humidity hadn’t helped that. I had on no makeup, which my mom was quick to point out as she teased me, while helping me with my suitcases, all the way to the taxi. 

I threw my four large suitcases into the back of the van-sized taxi and then climbed in next to my mom. She started talking to me about her new job. As scatterbrained and irresponsible as my mother could be, teaching was something she was very enthusiastic about. She’d been teaching school and other classes for as long as I could remember. She spoke Japanese, Spanish, and French. She also owned two retail stores, which had always kept us in a nice house, in nice clothes, and given us the ability to go on decent vacations every year or so. 

By the time we arrived at the house my mother had picked out when she flew out a week ahead of me, I was so carsick that I couldn’t wait to get out of the car. While I got my stuff out of the taxi, my mom paid the driver. I dragged my suitcases inside and left them by the door. Then I lay face down on the couch and groaned. 

“You lazy little snip,” my mother said, the first word she could think of that sounded slightly insulting spilling from her mouth. 

“Mom!” I complained when she poked me with the toe of her shoe. “I’m so tired and so car sick!”

“Well, you can’t sleep,” she said, almost laughing. 

“Yea?” I asked, turning my head to look at her. “And why is that?”

“Well,” said my mom, in a very matter-of-fact way. “If you sleep after a long plane ride like that, you’ll get your sleeping schedule all out of whack. There’s a time difference here. We wouldn’t want that, would we? You start school in five or six days, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “You would think that moving to a new country, I would get to avoid school for at least a month. Or a year.”

My mom laughed. “You know, you’re ridiculous,” she said. “But, really, don’t get your sleeping schedule all messed up. Here,” she said, pulling some money out of her wallet. “Go on a walk. Go left. Turn left again at the light and a few blocks down, you’ll run into the town. Find a marketplace. Get some vegetables for dinner. Look around. Whatever. Have an adventure, sweet pea.”

“Is that an order?” I asked, standing up and taking the money. 

My mother laughed. “Yes,” she said. “It is an order.”

“Fine,” I said. I started towards the door. 

“Aren’t you going to change?” asked my mom. 

I turned to look at her. “Something wrong with the way I look?” I asked. “I’m going for that…grungy sort of rock star vibe,” I joked. 

My mom looked me up and down and said, “Well, you’ve definitely got the grunge look down.”

I laughed and walked out the front door.


	2. Meeting Seto Kaiba

Chapter Two

 

My name is Olive Joy Reynolds. I have long, dark hair that naturally dries in loose waves, an olive skin tone, and my mother’s dark green eyes. I am about five foot six with a naturally slim body that, from years of playing sports, has always been in good shape. Since I was young, I’d been in all kinds of dance, soccer, track, and swimming. When I turned fourteen, I started playing ice hockey and taking karate classes too. My mom had always been able to scrape together the money for every class I wanted to take. Between her businesses, teaching, and child support money from a dad I’d never seen or met, she’d always been able to give me nearly everything I’d wanted. I guess I was a little spoiled. I’d never been a spoiled brat though. My mother had never hesitated to give me a swift kick in the ass if I ever acted out. 

As I walked, I tried to keep my mind busy, taking in all the buildings and the sight of this new place. I felt that if I stopped, even for a second, to think, I would fall asleep standing up. 

When I finally reached the little market place my mom had been talking about, I slipped inside and paused for a minute to look around. I got a few curious looks, but ignored them, grabbing a basket and heading for the produce section. 

After selecting a few vegetables and fruits that looked familiar, I got in line behind two or three other people and waited. Three guys and a girl, all of whom were talking loudly and laughing, fell in line behind me. I fought the urge to turn around and see who they were. I settled with just a glance instead, but I couldn’t really see any definite features. I just noticed two blondes and two brunettes. 

As I turned back to face the front of the store, the door jingled and a young boy with wild, shaggy black hair came running in the store. 

“Hey! Ain’t that the Kaiba brat?” asked one of the kids behind me. 

“Yea, that’s Mokuba,” said one of the other guys. 

“Why’s he here alone?” one of them asked. 

In the middle of asking the question, the door opened again and someone else walked in. He was older than the boy. He looked a couple years older than me. He was tall and slim with light brown hair and very blue eyes. He was wearing a dark blue jacket, which I couldn’t understand, because it felt hotter than hell outside to me. For a split second, his eyes met mine and I could have sworn he gave me a small nod. 

“Ah,” said the guy behind me. “Should have known he wasn’t here alone.”

“Yea,” said another one of the guys. “But Kaiba’s the last guy I want to see here. Or anywhere for that matter.”

The guy at the front of the store laughed softly, as if he’d heard the comment, and rolled his eyes. 

His younger brother ran back to the front of the store with a bag of candies, a comic book, and a pack of gum. He talked quietly to the older guy, who I assumed was his brother, and talked to him quietly. His brother finally consented and a store associate escorted him to the front of the line. 

Right in front of me. 

“Excuse me,” I said. 

He ignored me. 

I grabbed his shoulder. “Excuse me,” I repeated, more loudly. 

He turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. His blue eyes were so dark. When his dark blue eyes met my own dark green eyes, my breath caught for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, a slight tone in the back of his voice that made me think he wasn’t really sorry at all. “Is there a problem here, Ma’am?”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not ‘Ma’am’, it’s Olive,” I said. “Nice to meet you, rude guy in the blue jacket.” There were snickers behind me. “Second of all, I have been standing in line, waiting here for fifteen minutes. I don’t think you should be able to get in line in front of me now matter how many connections your have or how rich you are.”

He laughed. “Well,” he said, stepping aside. “Then by all means, go ahead.”

I walked past him, bought my vegetables and left without another word. It was on the way home, while I was waiting for the crosswalk light to change, that the car pulled up next to me. I didn’t even really notice until the window had already rolled down and someone called my name. 

I turned, saw him, and smiled a little. “Oh, hi,” I said. “Nice to see you again, rude guy in the blue jacket.”

“Nice to see you again too, Olive,” he said. “Can I offer you a ride?”

“You can,” I said. “But I could use the walk.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You are beautiful as it is. But if you insist on walking, I’ll just have the car follow you.”

I laughed a little. “Well, thank you,” I said. “Is there a name that I can call you by?”

He stuck his hand out the window. “Kaiba,” he said. “Seto Kaiba.”

I paused for a moment and then shook his hand. “Olive,” I said, mimicking his tone. “Olive Reynolds.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Why haven’t I ever seen you around here before?”

“I just moved in,” I said, walking down the street. The car followed and he observed me, quietly, out the window. “I just got here today, in fact,” I said. 

“Oh?” he asked. “That’s interesting. Where are you from?”

“Originally?” I asked. “Well, I was born in Alabama, spent a few years in Salt Lake City, Utah. But since I was ten, we’ve lived in California. I hate it there.”

“And why is that, Olive?” he asked. 

“Big city, bad traffic, and rude people,” I said. “Well, and fake people as well.”

He laughed. “You can find those four things anywhere you go,” he said. 

“Good point,” I said. 

“Where are you going to school?” he asked. 

“Domino High School,” I answered. “Have you heard of it?”

“Heard of it?” he asked. “I graduated from that school two years ago,” he said. “It’s a great school. Lots of stupid people, but that’s to be expected. Those kids back at the market that were in line behind you go to your school.” 

“Do they?” I asked. “I didn’t get a good look at them. Who were they?”

“Well,” he said. “There’s Yugi Muto, Joey Wheeler, and I think the other kid’s name is Tristan. The girl who was there is named Tea.”

“Are you friends?” I asked. 

He laughed. “No,” he said. “Not at all. I just know them from school. Yugi’s grandfather owns a duel monsters card shop as well.”

“Duel monsters?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“It’s a card game,” he said. 

“Yea, thanks,” I said. “I figured that much out when you said he owned a card shop.” I stopped walking and the car stopped as well. “So, my house is on this street,” I said, looking at him. “Are you going to be a stalker and follow me right to my house or should we part ways here?”

He smirked. “I prefer to be a stalker,” he said. 

I smiled. “I don’t think so,” I said. I paused for a moment, watching him, and then held my hand out. “Give me your phone,” I said. Without question, he handed me his cell phone. I entered my number and handed it back. “Give me a call sometime,” I said. 

He nodded and drove away.


	3. First Day of School

Chapter Three

The morning of the first day of school debatably sucked worse than the actual first day of school. I had gotten up early to get ready. For most of the first day, I was going to be shown around the school by a couple of student volunteers and I wanted to look nice. When I came into the kitchen with my hair pulled halfway back, skinny jeans, black heels, and a plain white t-shirt, my mom looked at me like I was crazy. 

“What?” I asked. “I don’t look good enough for you?”

“Well, sweetheart,” she said. “You look just cute as a button, but you’re supposed to wear a uniform.”

After a long pause, I rolled my eyes and sighed loudly, so she would know how irritated I was. “Did you buy me a uniform, mother dearest?” I asked her. 

“Well, no,” she said. “I thought I left that up to you. I wrote you a list of things you needed for school.”

I held up the list. “Yea,” I said. “Uniform is not on here.”

She sighed, looking troubled for a moment, and then said, “Oh well. Come on, let’s get in the car. It’s your first day. They have to forgive you.”

“Mooooooooom,” I complained, stomping out after here and getting in the car. 

“I like your shoes, baby,” she said. 

“Mom,” I repeated. “You are really irresponsible, you know that?” 

“I have a lot on my mind, Olive,” she said. “I have lots to do. I start work today too, you know. And I’ve been thinking of opening a clothing store out here while we’re at it. We’ll be here for a few years anyway.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “At least that means I’ll have a job,” I said. 

“That’s the spirit,” said my mom, cheerfully. 

After about fifteen minutes of driving, she dropped me off. She got out of the car to give me a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “Now, darling,” she said, “go to the principal’s office and let them know who you are. Everyone here speaks both English and Japanese so you’ll have no communication problems. They actually encourage English speaking because it’s more prominent in the business world.”

“Okay,” I said. 

“Here is some money for lunch and for the bus ride home,” she said, handing me the money. “I will see you later tonight.”

“You aren’t even going to walk me in, crazy lady?” I asked. 

She glared at me and then climbed in the car. She rolled down the passenger window and said, “You’ll do great, baby. Have a good day.”

I lifted my hand to wave, but she’d already left. “Thanks,” I said, quietly, turning to face the school full of my uniformed peers, where I would stick out like a sore thumb. After a few minutes of staring and wondering if I could remember the directions well enough to just walk back home, I gritted my teeth and walked into the school. 

“Hello, Ma’am,” I said. “I’m the American transfer student, Olive Reynolds. My mom told me to come here and you’d have people to help me find my classes and stuff.”

She glanced up at me and looked me up and down. 

“I know I don’t have the uniform on,” I said. “My mom forgot to tell me to buy it. But I’ll get one tonight and tomorrow I’ll be totally squared away.” I winced at my use of the military-sounding term. My mom’s boyfriend of four years, when I was young, had been in the military and I’d picked up the term from him. Somehow over the years, it stuck. 

She made a noise and then pushed a button and spoke into the phone for a second. After a couple minutes, she hung up and said, “There are two students here who speak exceptional English, waiting for you in front of the office building. They will escort you to your classes, which have been synced up with theirs.” She looked over my outfit again and said, “Please have your correct uniform on when you come to school tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you,” I said, leaving the office. 

I met the two kids out front. There was a girl and a guy. The girl was thin and had shoulder length brown hair. The guy was tall and had long, shaggy white hair.

“I thought everyone in Japan had black hair,” I mumbled to myself.

They turned to look at me. 

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. “I’m Olive. You guys are supposed to s how me my classes, I guess.”

“Hi!” said the girl in an overly cheerful voice. “My name is Tea. It’s so good to meet you…”

“Tea?” I asked. “Were you at that little market place a few days ago? With three guys when Kaiba and his brother came in?” 

“Yea,” she said, nodding and looking confused. 

“I was standing in line in front of you,” I said. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Bakura, I was just telling you about her! She totally told Seto Kaiba off! I didn’t realize you’d be coming to our school.”

“Practically friends already,” said the boy, cheerfully. 

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound friendly, but knowing that I didn’t. 

“Sorry,” he said. He offered his hand to shake. “My name’s Bakura.”

I smiled. “Nice to meet you,” I said. 

“I see you missed the uniform memo,” he said, teasingly. 

“My mom is really irresponsible,” I offered as an explanation. 

“Well, you look great,” he said. 

“Yea,” said Tea. “Maybe I can borrow some clothes sometimes. Anyway,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to our other friends at lunch, but your first class is with Bakura.”

“Cool,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and smiled. 

“Come on,” said Bakura. “Yugi’s in our first class. He’ll be excited to meet you.”

“Okay…” I said. My words trailed off when I saw a limo pull up in front of the school. The same black haired boy from a few days before got out and ran up the school. The limo started to pull away, but then the driver stopped. The door opened and Seto Kaiba got out. 

A hush seemed to fall over the courtyard of the school and people were staring. I tried not to meet his eyes, but he walked right up to me. After a few seconds of considering ignoring him, I finally looked up and smiled. 

“Thanks,” I said. “Now everyone knows exactly who the weird girl with no uniform is and that she knows Seto Kaiba.”

He smirked. “That’s one way to get noticed, I suppose,” he said. “I wanted to offer you a ride home after school today. I can pick you up when I come to pick up my brother. Maybe I can take you by the mall today and show you where to get your uniform.”

I studied his face for a second, thinking. 

“Don’t make up an excuse,” he said. “Just say yes.” 

“Alright,” I said. “Fine. I’ll see you after school.”

“It’s a date then,” he said, with that same annoying smirk on his face. He turned and walked away. 

“It is not a date,” I called after him. I turned to Bakura. “It’s not a date,” I told him. 

“How do you know Kaiba?” he asked. “I thought you told him off the other day.”

“I did,” I said. “But then he sort of followed me and introduced himself. Why? Is that weird?”

Bakura shrugged. I studied him. He was quiet and sort of small. He seemed very…awkward and introverted. But he seemed nice. 

“Kaiba’s just a rich kid, you know?” he said. “He’s always seemed really stuck up. He sort of looks down on others.”

I laughed a little. “Yea, I’ve known those kinds of people,” I said. “I just have never associated with them, so this is sort of weird.”

Bakura smiled a little, but he didn’t say anything. He just led me quietly to our first class. We walked into class together and I avoided eye contact with everyone, since my clothes seemed to draw everyone’s stares. I followed Bakura to one table and sat down next to a small kid with blonde, spiky hair that had black and purple streaks in it. 

“Olive Reynolds, this is Yugi Muto,” said Bakura. “Yugi, this is the new girl, the American transfer student, Olive.”

“Nice to meet you, Olive,” said Yugi. He looked so friendly, I couldn’t help but smile. “Where are you from in America?”

“Born in Alabama, down south,” I said. “Then I lived in Utah for a couple of years and, finally, in California.”

“And now Japan,” Yugi added. “What brought you here?”

“But mom’s a teacher and a business owner,” I said. “She’s taught at elementary school, junior high and middle school, and high school. She’s taught after school classes before too. She owns two clothing stores in California and she’s thinking of opening one here. We moved here before she got a job teaching English.” 

“That’s cool,” Yugi said. “She sounds very ambitious.”

I laughed a little, smiling too. “She probably has attention deficit disorder, to be honest,” I said. “My mom has so much energy. She’s all over the place. She’s really forgetful too. Irresponsible, but she’s fun. I love her. Most of the time.”

Yugi laughed and I was glad that the school had implemented a program where I was basically assigned to friends. 

When we walked to the next class, I learned that the rest of our classes were shared with Tea, the girl I’d met at the beginning of the day, and Yugi and Bakura’s other friends, Tristan and Joey. During any free time, I would pull out a book and start to read. Over the top of my book, I noticed that everyone would gather around tables to watch people play some card game. 

I didn’t ask. I just brushed it off. 

After school, I walked over to where Mokuba was waiting for his brother and sat awkwardly on the opposite side of the bench from him. He glanced at me, laughed, smiled, and shook his head. 

“I’m Mokuba Kaiba,” he said. “My brother told me about you. Olive, right?”

I smirked and nodded. “Yea, I’m Olive,” I said. “Nice to meet you.” After another minute of silence, I looked at him and asked, “Your brother talks about me?”

Mokuba smiled. “Don’t tell him I told you,” he said.


End file.
